


We Shall Covet

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angel Dean Winchester, M/M, archangel!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knows it's wrong, he's an archangel, he doesn't covet and sin in such a way. But he can't help it. Castiel draws the attention of his vessel's eyes and his Grace. Above all else he yearns for the younger angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Shall Covet

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that popped into my head one day. This is part of a series that'll definitely have multiple pieces. Own nothing, it's all Kripke's fault.
> 
> Enjoy!

He was glorious, pure, righteous and fierce. The very essence of an archangel. Sometimes, when he was away from the ears of Heaven, he would admit that he felt Dean was a better angel than even Michael. A blasphemous part of himself loved his general even more than he loved his Father. Even his halo, which burned bright white in a tribute to the human soul left him awe-struck. Michael’s halo was made of fire and many thought it to be the embodiment of glory. Castiel couldn’t bring himself to agree. He had other ideas about glory.

The Archangel Decanus, the Star of Brotherhood, patron of fraternity and loyalty. The most fearsome warrior Heaven held, even more than Raphael or Michael. Castiel thought that if it came down to it, Dean could kill Lucifer when the apocalypse raged across the planet, should Michael fail. His wrath was to be feared, avoided and his love was something to be cherished. Perhaps even coveted.

Castiel was a lower lieutenant, he had two wings and a respectable post. The glory he found in servitude was made only better by the way his commander would smile to him, Grace pulsing happily. His brothers shamed him for his clear adoration and he couldn’t understand why. Where was the sin in loving your brother?

He could feel his Grace being pulled, stronger than a prayer, but weaker than a summoning. A brother was calling him. Dean was calling him. Castiel didn’t hesitate to open his wings and appear in front of him, wrapped in his green-eyed vessel. Castiel’s vessel wasn’t as beautiful as Dean’s, but that didn’t matter.

Even the story of Dean’s vessel was more heartening than his own. A father who would do anything in the service of God, it was a typical story. His vessel’s name was Jimmy Novak and his soul now resided in Heaven with the wife and daughter he left behind.

Dean’s vessel was named Jensen, he didn’t think the man had a last name. He was the son of a Nordic warrior and a German woman who was schizophrenic in the middle ages. The church thought he was possessed and began to torture him in an effort to exorcise him. Dean told him he would send his soul to paradise; that he would never have to experience pain again if he only surrendered his body. It didn’t take more than one visit for Jensen to say yes.

He was merciful and ruthless all at once and he was always fair. The archangel Samuel was a strong ally to him and Castiel respected Samuel greatly, even if he would admit to a certain amount of jealousy. He had to admit it because it was unholy and he needed to acknowledge it and cleanse it.

The moment his commander spoke he forgot all about cleansing himself.

“Castiel, you got here quickly.” He was pleased, a wide smile breaking over his face. His Grace was brighter than Castiel could ever remember seeing. “I need to ask you something, come with me.”

He allowed himself to be pulled wherever Dean wanted, he trusted him. They landed on a beach, somewhere warm and secluded. The sand was black, volcanic glass. It clicked in his mind that they were in Hawaii.

“What did you want to ask me, Dean?” Most angels preferred to use their full names, but Dean liked to put any humans he met at ease. He joked that Decanus sounded like some sort of medication for gastritis. Castiel found himself laughing at the joke, even if he didn’t fully understand, if only because Dean’s joy was infectious.

“Anael left, as you’re aware. Pulled a Gabriel, which doesn’t surprise me. They were always close.” He was saddened, but there was also something else there, almost hope. “She was my second in command, her position is now vacant. If I don’t choose another soon, Michael will prepare a gauntlet and it will be left up to the loss of blood and Grace.” He scratched the back of his neck. “To be honest, Cas, I never really cared for those competitions. They always felt…”

“Impersonal?” He wasn’t sure why he said it, or where it even came from, but Dean used his nickname and he was feeling prideful and confident.

Dean smiled at him. “Exactly.” His vessel’s face flushed with heat and he realized he was blushing at Dean’s attention. He looked away, back out to the ocean that lapped at the dark sand under their feet. “What do you think about the position?”

“I think Balthazar would be a very good choice, he’s a great warrior, a good friend of mine and a loyal brother.”

Castiel was surprised to hear Dean laugh softly, his six silver wings shaking as though they were sharing in the joke as well. “Not what I meant, Cas. Not that I don’t agree, but Balthazar wasn’t who I had in mind.”

Castiel tilted his head, confused. Who else would be better for the job? “I don’t understand. Who then?” Certainly not Uriel or Zachariah.

“Oh, fuck no!” Dean barked a loud laugh, it often unnerved the other members of the Host when he would speak so crudely, but Castiel found it fascinating, another thing to set Dean apart. “No, definitely not either of those dicks. All respect where respect is due, I don’t trust them that much. They’re too tightly wound to Michael.” Castiel balked, Dean never spoke like this, so plainly and casually. It was hard to earn his trust, especially after Gabriel left, and it felt like Dean was trusting him with things he’d never say inside the gates. “I’m asking you, Cas, will you accept a promotion?”

“You want me?” He backed away a step, shocked. What had he done to warrant it? He was one of the lowest ranking lieutenants in the whole garrison. For Dean to give him the first captain’s rank, it didn’t make sense.

“Yes, I trust you, Cas. Besides, Sam’s having Balthazar transferred to his garrison and I’m allowing it.” Dean paused for a moment, looking Castiel over, looking at his Grace as it shuddered and his wings as they twitched. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that the sand was the same color as his wings. “You’re loyal, well above the call of obedience. There are times when I feel like if it came down to it you’d throw yourself in front of me in the middle of battle. Not many other seraph would. Archangels are supposed to be absolute. Heavenly WMD’s.” His eyes darkened, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’ve seen you fight, Cas, you’re more skilled than you give yourself credit for. I’d be honored if you’d accept my offer. Will you?”

 _Yes, yes, anything for you._ “Thank you, yes.” He felt like he might explode, as though his vessel should combust from the way his Grace swelled and pushed at the very fringes of its skin.

Dean’s smile was blinding, his wings flaring excitedly and even his halo flared brighter. “Great!” Dean approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Castiel’s forehead, Grace and power flowing through him.

Castiel gasped, a second pair of wings bursting out from his back beneath his top pair. He could feel the top pair lengthen to match his new pair, his wingspan broadening considerably. He knew it should hurt, gaining a rank always did, but he felt nothing but comfort. It was said the pain was a test of faith, to see if you could withstand the trial of your new tasks. His Grace expanded, new power flowing through him that he never anticipated. It felt overwhelming, almost too much. His icy halo was thrumming and throbbing, radiating in a way he’d never known.

Dean stepped back and admired him, Castiel simply blinking dumbly at him. “That should have hurt.”

Amusement and fondness glinted in Dean’s eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t think it was necessary. I trust you, Castiel.” It was wrong to think that Dean saying his full name was more important than anyone else saying it. He knew that, but he couldn’t dwell on it. There were words of gratitude, admiration and love waiting on his lips but Dean spoke first. “Go pick your second, Cas.”

—

Dean watched as Castiel flew away, new wings carrying him even faster than before. Which was saying something because he was clocked with some of the fastest flight times of all of them. Michael would question his choice. No, scratch that, everyone would question his choice. Well, maybe not Sam, but Sam knew why. Sam had a similar situation going with Balthazar, which was why Dean allowed the transfer.

Father forbid anyone try to transfer Castiel. Now they couldn’t, he was second in command and nothing short of Dean kicking him out could take him away.

Father forgive him for coveting, for wanting his brother and for savoring every adoring look from him. Castiel was unique, a peculiar thing and Dean wanted him to be his.


End file.
